Tuesday, September 12, 2017

RONIN: Blu-ray (United Artists, 1998) Arrow Films

With director
John Frankenheimer paying homage to the racing sequences from his own 1966
classic, Grand Prix, and a killer
and very accomplished cast, including Robert De Niro, Jean Reno, Sean Bean,
Jonathan Price and Michael Lonsdale, more ought to have been expected from Ronin(1998), a unintentionally silly
and thoroughly convoluted spy/action/thriller. The picture’s globe-trotting
span takes us to and through some breathtaking Euro landscapes, mostly at a
breakneck pace; the screenplay, co-authored by David Mamet (toiling under the
nom de plume, Richard Weisz) and John David Zeik, based on Zeik’s short story
outline. The title of the picture is rather curious, given Ronin are a sect of
‘master-less’ samurai ostracized for having failed their deceased handlers, basically
left to roam the earth as mercenaries for hire.
The motley crew inhabiting this movie are hardly that; rather, a troop
of reprobates, loners and wanna-be’s desperate for their next ‘big score’. The plot, such as it is, is set into motion
by the mysterious, Deirdre(Natascha
McElhone), fronting as a barmaid at a local pub in Montmartre and corralling
her assassin’s squad from an eclectic roster of international desperadoes; the
cool-as-a-cucumber American, Sam (Robert DeNiro) who uses logic and a pistol in
tandem to get himself out of some very sticky situations, his ever-faithful, if
steely-eyed French wingman, Vincent (Jean Reno), shifty-eyed German computer
code cracker, Gregor (Stellan Skarsgård) and a pair of nerve-twitchy amateurs;
the Englishman, Spence (Sean Bean) – more talk than action – and another
American, Larry (Skipp Sudduth); nervous to a fault, who winds up garroted in
his car.

Frankly, I remain
at a loss to explain the reputation Roninhas acquired since its theatrical release; the storyline, a mess; the characterizations,
about as cookie-cutter and wafer thin as clichés get, relying almost
exclusively on the reputations of its acting ensemble, put to far better use
elsewhere in their respective careers. The Weisz/Zeik script does not keep us
guessing because it never entirely resolves or even settles on a side and a
purpose. The bad guys with whom we are expected to align our empathies are
outclassed by some other bad guys who
may or may not actually be working for a third set of never seen – but oddly
eluded to - ‘bad guys.’ Yeah, okay.
And then what? And for what? Ah, I
see: a metal attaché vaguely reminiscent of those steel briefcases Howie Mandel
used to implore leggy and short-skirted models to reveal on the TV game show, Deal or No Deal. Alas, we are never
privy to the contents of this particular case that Sam and his cohorts are
asked by Deirdre to retrieve. So we are left with a MacGuffin as the
centerpiece of Ronin. Now, before I
become inundated with hate mail attesting to the fact Hitchcock made his career
out of MacGuffin-styled plots, the rebuttal I offer herein is simply this: ‘yes’
Hitch used the MacGuffin to launch into his stories. But he also afforded his
audience other narrative advantages along the way to enrich and ultimately
steered his plots to a more rewarding dénouement. The MacGuffin was never the
point of Hitchcock’s storytelling, whereas it is the whole reason for Ronin’s
existence. Without the mysterious ‘case’ Frankenheimer does not have a movie!

When all else
fails, Frankenheimer certainly knows his way around a great chase sequence –
especially one involving cars; the racing in Ronin attaining a level of unimpeachable craftsmanship. While one
can emphatically admire Frankenheimer for these exhilarating moments; good
stunts alone do not a great movie make, and Ronin– almost from the moment it begins – narratively begins to
crumble into exactly the sort of big screen mishmash one would associate with a
novice director at the helm. From someone as seasoned as Frankenheimer, it is
extremely second rate and marginally embarrassing to say the least. Ronin ought to have been about more
than a risk-taking race against time for a prize nobody has seen and, apart
from Deirdre and the Russians, is only superficially interested in obtaining. Again,
the imagery (sumptuously photographed by Robert Fraisse) clings together because
the actors are good enough to compel us to watch them go through the
machinations of this oft violent cloak and dagger. The set pieces are all
showstoppers; the aforementioned car chases, the superbly staged – if utterly
pointless – double assassination of Olympic figure skater, Natacha Kirilova
(Katarina Witt) and her Russian mobster/manager, Mikhi (Féodor Atkine), the
frantic foot chase as Sam hunts down the double-crossing Gregor through the
winding back stages of the Arles Amphitheatre, culminating with a near-fatal
plummet from one of its stone buttresses. Heartily, we take absolutely nothing away from
these heart-palpitating highlights. They are magnificent. But to what purpose?

Although the
original screenplay for Roninis co-credited
to J.D. Zeik, depending on who you ask, David Mamet’s contributions were either
as slight as adding a few choice lines of dialogue to ‘expand’ DeNiro’s part or
basically a complete re-write of Zeik’s brain child. When asked about Mamet’s
contributions, Frankenheimer was rather adamant the credits ought to have read “Story by J.D. Zeik, screenplay by David
Mamet…we didn’t shoot a line of Zeik’s script!” Frankenheimer was also very
precise about the look of the picture. According to his cinematographer, Robert
Fraisse, Roninwas comprised of “a lot of setups” and very short shots
achieved with extremely short focal lengths to create the illusion of immediacy
– the plot seemingly evolving as the picture went along. Steadicam operator, David
Crone was calling in to helm these ambitious and physically challenging action
sequences, maintaining an incredible sense of framing to add continuity as well
as visual finesse. Frankenheimer was also certain he wanted to mute his
palette, using color sparingly throughout. This effect was achieved by first
overexposing the film stock while shooting, then under developing the footage
in the laboratory; simultaneously reducing contrast while desaturating colors.

Herein, we
pause briefly to doff our caps to the more than 300 stunt drivers who, driving
at top speeds of 120 mph, have achieved extraordinary results for the car
chases featured in Ronin; particularly
during the penultimate and lengthy showdown through the twisting streets,
byways and tunnels of Paris. Frankenheimer’s passion for automobiles is clearly
the ‘driving’ spirit behind these death-defying/tire-burning, if hardly
trail-blazing action sequences, intentionally to claim 80 wrecks by the end of
filming. In an age where it would have
been so easy for Frankenheimer to cop out, employing digital tools to tweak,
add or even manipulate his edits, he has instead elected to go full-on ‘old
school’ with his stunt work. The crashes are real. The hairpin turns are
cringe-worthy and nail-biting. As with Grand
Prix more than 30 years before it, Roninachieves a level of big-scale authenticity unlikely to be rivaled by
another movie any time soon – if ever; Frankenheimer’s one forgivable cheat,
re-dubbing the torque-induced screeches and nitrous oxide power-boosting sound
effects in the editing room.

Ronin begins at a bistro in Montmartre where fair-haired Fenian,
Deirdre connects with ex-special operatives cum mercenaries, Sam, Larry and
Vincent. Hurrying them into a nearby warehouse where fellow soldiers of fortune,
Gregor and Spence are already lying in wait, Deirdre wastes no time debriefing
her boys on their rather cryptic ‘no
questions asked’ mission. They have been seconded to the cause of a
military-styled ambush of a heavily armed convoy toting a large metallic
briefcase. Sam is immediately suspicious, and, for good reason. Deirdre
trickles out details about the plan only when backed into a corner, and never
quite enough to thoroughly satisfy Sam’s inquisitive nature. Stonewalled in his
complete disclosure, Sam demands more remuneration for sticking his neck out on
a fool’s errand, as only a fool would accept such a plan without first knowing
all its particulars and pressure points. Although Deirdre reveals more details
about the assignment, the contents of the metal attaché are never disclosed.

As this
renegade troop prepares for battle, Deirdre’s handler Seamus O'Rourke (Jonathan
Pryce) reveals a plot by the Russian mob to bid for the case. Time is of the
essence. They must intercept the trade now. During a blood-bursting shoot out, Spence
cannot handle the pressure and throws up. Sam challenges; then, exposes Spence
as a fraud. Deirdre buys Spence’s silence and the others immediately depart for
Nice. The romantic chemistry between Sam and Deirdre is antagonistic but
palpable. In a different time and a different place… The remaining team ambushes
the convoy and retrieves the case, pursuing the survivors. Alas, in due course
treason reveals itself from within as Gregor greedily steals the case and
virtually disappears. Now, Gregor tries to sell his ill-gotten gains to the
Russians, forced to kill his contact when he betrays him. He then contacts
Mikhi, the Russian puppet master pulling all the strings in their game of
espionage thus far. Through an old CIA informant, Sam and Vincent intercept the
trade between Mikhi’s men and Gregor at the Arles Amphitheatre. Gregor manages
an escape, but is taken hostage by Seamus, who has already slit Larry’s throat
and kidnapped Deirdre. Sam is wounded by a bullet meant for Vincent. Vincent
hurries his ailing partner to a remote villa in Les Baux-de-Provence owned by
his good friend, Jean-Pierre (Michael Lonsdale). The projectile is removed sans
anesthesia in a cringe-worthy scene not for the faint of heart. Vincent remains
vigilante while Sam recuperates. In the meantime, he also asks Jean-Pierre to
help them track down Gregor.

In Paris,
Gregor is brutally interrogated by the Russians, leading Seamus and Deirdre to
his hiding place for the case: a post office box. Unaware Sam and Vincent have also managed to locate
their whereabouts; a high-speed chase ensues, ended when Vincent manages to
shoot out Deirdre’s tires, sending her car over a precariously high overpass under
construction. As workers rush to free Deirdre and Seamus from the overturned
burning wreck, Gregor manages yet again to escape with the goods on foot. Sam
and Vincent finagle their way into the backstage area of Le Zénith Arena where
Olympic figure skater, Natacha Kirilova is preparing for a show. Accompanied by
Mikhi, Natacha, who may or may not be aware of her manager/boyfriend’s
involvement in these crimes, is as oblivious; she is being shadowed by a sniper
hiding in the rafters. Now, Gregor attempts to blackmail Mikhi for a new price
on the case or else the sniper will kill his girlfriend. Alas, Gregor has
underestimated the ruthlessness of this Russian. He allows Gregor’s shooter his
assassination before cold-bloodedly murdering Gregor backstage, retrieving the
case from his cold dead hands.

As the
panicked crowd flees the arena, Sam and Vincent are once again too late to the
party; witnessing Seamus kill Mikhi and retrieve the case. Sam spies Deirdre waiting
in a nearby getaway car, beseeching her to leave. He reveals to her he is a
covert CIA agent, having always been assigned by his government to pursue Seamus
- not the case. Deirdre bitter-sweetly agrees and drives off, forcing Seamus to
hurry back into the arena with Sam in pursuit. Seamus ambushes Sam. At the last
possible moment however, Seamus is fatally shot by Vincent; their mission, at
an end. Some days later, at the same bistro where it all began, Sam and Vincent
listen to a radio broadcast announcing a peace accord between Sinn Féin and
Britain. Sam looks wistfully toward the front door; Vincent, coolly reminding
him Deirdre will not be coming back. Sam agrees. He drives off with another CIA
contact, leaving Vincent to pay their bar tab. In John Frankenheimer’s original
ending, these introspective moments are interpolated with shots of Deirdre
lurking just beyond, tearfully observing Sam and Vincent through the window and
quite unaware she has also been shadowed. Members of the Russian mob appear and
brutally kidnap her into the back of a waiting van, suggesting hers will
decidedly not be a happy end.

Despite
Frankenheimer flair with the hot pursuit sequences, and, his considerable stealth
in staging interesting, if oddly prolonged dialogue exchanges, Ronin is an uneven thriller at best. It
has Frankenheimer’s stamp of quality, though regrettably not enough narrative
impetus to ever go beyond a middling and, at times, thoroughly convoluted
caper. There are ‘good moments’ within
it, but the sum total is never as impressive as its parts. That is a shame
because Frankenheimer would not come any closer to rekindling the magic of his
own illustrious past with the few and far between offerings made after Ronin. His real glory period remains
the 1960’s (The Young Savages 1961,
1962’s Birdman of Alcatraz and The Manchurian Candidate, 1964’s Seven Days in May and The Train, and finally, 1966’s Seconds, and, Grand Prix). Roninshares
in glimmers from this golden epoch; notably Frankenheimer’s love of racing and
his expertly staged ‘conversational’ exchanges – particularly in an era when
dialogue is either cheaply conceived or never even considered beyond an
afterthought. Truthfully, it is the dialogue that lets Frankenheimer down here;
also, David Mamet’s inability to make good sense (or even basic logic) from J.D.
Zeik’s story. Yes, you can have a great movie that does not make any sense at
all. Howard Hawk’s The Big Sleep (1946)
immediately comes to mind. Hell, David Lynch’s entire career is based on such hypnotic
and nonsensical/dreamlike cinema landscapes. But Roninis a story ‘of the
moment’, presumably taking place in the
moment (a.k.a. ‘real time’ and in
reality) as fudged through the confines of a conventional movie narrative.
Conventional…even unconventional, might have served Frankenheimer well. Pedestrian does not and Ronin succumbs to a sort of taut ennui as
its body count rises and the plot slips away like the pieces of a mismatched
puzzle never to be put back together successfully.

It’s about
time Arrow Video began releasing more ‘region free’ Blu-rays. Their commitment
to movies has made them a premiere label to rival – and in some cases – surpass
the niche market of personalized and ‘extra-packed’ home video releases, until
very late, dominated by the Criterion Collection in North America. Roninwas exclusively restored by Arrow
from an original 35mm camera negative scanned in at 4K resolution. Were that
every movie could be the benefactor of Arrow’s zeal, expertise and passion,
because Roninlooks spectacular in
1080p; head and shoulders beyond the tired MGM/Fox release from 2009. I never
saw Ronintheatrically, so the drab
color palette that begins the movie seems, if unremarkable, presumably in
keeping with Frankenheimer’s original vision. The muted palette perks up after
around the 20 min. mark as we move outdoors and begin our globe-trotting
adventures. The sequences shot in Nice are among ‘the nicest’; flesh tones looking spectacularly genuine and the rich
orange of clay roof tiles sparkling. The most impressive advancement between
Arrow and the old MGM/Fox is in fine detail and razor-sharpness. Detail!
Detail! Details! They are everywhere; from hair and clothing fibers to cracked
stucco and cobblestone. Film grain, previously intermittent and clumpy, is now
very indigenous to its source. The DTS 5.1 audio exhibits no discernable
improvements from the MGM/Fox release.

Apart from the
4K remaster, Arrow has padded out the extras: porting over Frankenheimer’s
audio commentary from the MGM/Fox release and adding to it, a new video
interview with cinematographer, Robert Fraisse; also, a documentary on Robert
DeNiro by Paul Joyce, and several archival interviews with Fraisse,
Frankenheimer, Natascha McElhone, editor Tony Gibbs and Ronin’s composer, Elia Cmiral; plus, Venice Film Festival Q&A’s
with DeNiro, Jean Reno and Elhone, the movie’s original ending, a theatrical
trailer and – in the first pressing only – a collectible booklet with an essay
by critic, Travis Crawford and illustrations by Chris Malbon. Bottom line: if you are a fan of Ronin, the Arrow Film Blu-ray is the only way to go. I would love to see
Arrow make a more aggressive push into North American Blu-ray releases with
some truly classic Hollywood product. Their quality ranks among the best in the
biz and their comprehensive assortment of bonus features are sure to delight
self-respecting film lovers and the novice alike. Highly recommended.

About Me

Nick Zegarac is a freelance writer/editor and graphics artist. He holds a Masters in Communications and an Honors B.A in Creative Lit from the University of Windsor.
He is currently a freelance writer and has been a contributing editor for Black Moss Press and is a featured contributor to online's The Subtle Tea. He's also has had two screenplays under consideration in Hollywood.
Last year he finished his first novel and is currently searching for an agent to represent him.
Contact Nick via email at movieman@sympatico.ca